


He Only Smokes When He Drinks

by CaliHart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliHart/pseuds/CaliHart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris hasn't been able to touch another woman in that way since his wife died. And he knows he isn't the only one who can't look at a woman again.</p>
<p>Inspired by the song She Only Smokes When She Drinks</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Only Smokes When He Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Teen Wolf fic, so don't be too harsh. It's a songfic, which is kind of overdone, I know, but I think I've worked the lyrics in well enough that they aren't noticeable right away unless you know the song.

The room was full of men, most of them around their age, but there was a handful of younger men and several older ones. The older men took up a few booths along the walls, sharing stories and laughs with their drinks, while the younger ones were crammed into a corner of the bar. Chris was nursing his rum and coke at the bar, keeping an eye on two men who sat several seats away from him, near the end. 

One of the men had been sitting there for as long as Chris had, peeling the label on the bottle that was sitting in front of him. It was when he had pulled out a cigarette that the other man joined him. The second man had blocked Chris’s view for a few minutes with the black hair under his hat. He could see they were talking, the second man clearly flirting by the tone of his voice that Chris could barely hear over the music and the other people there. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a lighter, and Chris shook his head to himself. 

_So you lit his cigarette._ Chris thought, looking at them, reading the second man’s body language. _You’re feeling pretty good. Think you got a shot?_ He shrugged. _Most men, you probably would. Yeah, this is that kind of place. But he isn’t that kind of guy. You’re reading this all wrong._

He hid a smirk behind his glass as the first man stood and walked towards the back of the club, where the bathrooms were located. The second man, when he turned, was frowning, and Chris waved him over when he stood. He walked over and took the empty seat on Chris’s right. 

“What’s up with him?” he asked, his voice sounding offended and confused, but Chris only chuckled. 

“Let me tell you about him,” he started. “He only smokes when he drinks. He only drinks now and then; now and then when he’s tired of being let down by men. You can give him a light, but it’s not what you think. Everybody knows he only drinks alone, and he only smokes when he drinks.” The man sat next to him silently, thinking, and Chris waved at the barkeep to get them both new drinks. After they’d been set down, Chris continued. 

“Did you ask him to dance?” The man looked at him in surprise, and Chris smiled knowingly. “Let me guess, he told you no.” The man nodded. Chris shook his head again. “This place is too loud; the music isn’t his type.” _Got to take him someplace quiet, and see how far that goes._ “Don’t take it all that hard when he smiles and turns you down. For a complicated guy, he isn’t that hard to figure out.” Chris sipped his drink and thought over what he’d said before. 

_He only smokes when he drinks, he only drinks now and then. Now and then when he’s tired of being let down by men. You can give him a light, but it’s not what you think. Everybody knows he only drinks alone, and he only smokes when he drinks._

Chris patted the man’s shoulder encouragingly. “It’s nothing personal, really. Why don’t you go try over there?” He pointed down the bar to where the younger men were gathered. The man looked over and nodded, smiling at Chris as he stood and walked away. Chris watched for only a second, and then looked back when the first man returned to his seat at the bar. He didn’t look over, but Chris knew he knew he was there. He flagged down the bartender and fished his own lighter out of his pocket. The bartender was a man in his mid-20s, who hadn’t been around long enough to learn the regulars, not like the older barkeep, a war veteran in his sixties with a white ponytail. 

“I’ll be paying for his next drink,” Chris said, pointing down the bar to the man who was now sitting alone. “And could you give him this?” He held out his lighter, silver with an etching of a wolf on the side of it. The bartender nodded and took the lighter. Chris watched as a few moments later, he walked over to the lone man, who had finished his first cigarette and pulled out another. The bartender set an ashtray in front of him, where he promptly discarded his first cigarette. A drink and the lighter were set down next, and the bartender pointed over at Chris, but the man didn’t look. He carefully picked up the lighter and held it in his hand for a long minute, and then he used it to light his new cig. Chris hadn’t really expected more than that, and he went back to sipping his drink. 

They were both still sitting there a few hours later, when the bartender announced last call. The bar suddenly became crowded, and Chris finished off his drink and stood to leave more room for people who wanted one last dose of alcohol before leaving. He walked over to the man who sat alone with his lighter, entering the bubble of space around him that was kept respectfully by the older patrons who knew who he was. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” Chris said, setting a hand on his shoulder. He only nodded and finished his drink, the remaining half of his latest cigarette hanging from his lips as he pulled out his wallet and dropped money on the counter to pay for his drinks. Chris did the same and then guided him away from the bar and outside to where his car waited. They got in and Chris started it up before rolling down the passenger side window. The other man didn’t say anything, staring out the window as he kept smoking. When Chris came to a stop in front of his house a while later, the other man sighed and dropped his cigarette outside of the window. He turned to Chris, the first time in the whole night those blue eyes met his own, and leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you for the ride, Chris,” he said, pressing the silver lighter into his hand. Chris smiled and watched him get out of the car, grinding the cigarette butt into the ground with his shoe as he closed the door. He watched him walk up the pathway to the porch, hands in his pockets, before turning his car around. Chris took one last glance at the figures framed in the doorway of the house, light shining behind them, and said, “Anytime, Pete,” before driving away.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are copyrighted to someone, even though they were slightly adapted by me for this fic.


End file.
